


Staten Island, 1993

by dont_take_the_monet



Category: Impractical Jokers
Genre: F/M, High School
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-17 23:27:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12376335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dont_take_the_monet/pseuds/dont_take_the_monet
Summary: It's late 1993, and a house party brings you face to face with a change of pace, a breath of fresh air, and a whole lotta trouble.





	1. Ditched

Staten Island, 1993

Friday nights for us Catholic high schoolers were interesting. Our parents and teachers thought we all would go home, study, and pray, like they had been teaching us to do since we could think for ourselves.

But in reality, after our last classes ended, the uniforms and dress shoes came off, and it felt like we could finally breathe. That’s at least how it felt for me.

It was a simple maneuver for me. "Hey mom, Jen and Lisa are here! I'll be back later!" Boom. No questions asked. Sometimes, a quick "curfew's eleven!", but I knew they were always going to be asleep by then. As long as I was in bed by 6:30 the next morning, suspicions weren't raised. It helps if you pretend to fess up every once in a while.

"Hey, dad. I'm sorry, I got home around 11:30 last night. Jennifer, Lisa, and I went to go get pizza, and we lost track of time. I won't do it again."

Boom.

Most Friday nights, we would go down to the beach and stand around in the dark, listening to car radios. But tonight, Lisa had other plans.

I never really was a big party girl, but Lisa had a thing for the guy from St. Peter’s who was throwing the party. She wanted a “wing-woman” but I didn’t realize wing-women get left in the corner of dingy basements with a bunch of drunk, sweaty teenagers. Wu Tang Clan’s album had just come out, so that was a major factor in tonight’s music choice. Jen stayed home, so I was stuck on my own out here.

I was a junior in high school. There were a lot of risks to be considered, if I were to get caught at a basement party like this.

  1. My parents would never let me leave the house again.
  2. If I got kicked off the soccer team, I would definitely be off the basketball team this winter. No more hopes of scholarship.



I tried to keep towards the sidelines of the room. I’ve never really been a good dancer, if you could call it that. I kept a close eye on Lisa, who would surely be embarrassed to see herself right now. I held my solo cup full of ice close to me, in hopes that no one would offer me a drink.

This party was an even mix of kids from different schools. I knew a few of them, well, I recognized their faces from football or soccer games. 

“Hey, it’s a party, you should dance!” someone piped up from my right. I turned to face him, and saw that he was standing a lot closer than I realized.

“Jeez!” I nearly tipped over, “Make a noise, why don’t you?” 

As if I could hear if he did.

“Sorry, sorry” he laughed “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Yeah, you’re fine.” I flashed him a quick smile, and taking a piece of ice in my mouth. It was the middle of November, and I was standing off to the side in a frigid basement. I bet the kids dancing were just fine, but I had goosebumps all over.

I looked back over to where I last saw Lisa practically giving the guy from St. Peter’s a lap dance, but she was gone.

“Ah, shit!” I exclaimed.

“What’s the matter?” the guy next to me asked.

I huffed, and started pushing my way through the crowd, heading up the stairs. There weren’t as many people upstairs, but I still couldn’t find Lisa. I rolled my eyes, and thought  _ Typical. _

“Hey, what’s goin’ on? Everything alright?” The kid had followed me.

“My ride just ditched me. D’you see a phone anywhere?” I sighed.

“What for?”

“I’m gonna call a cab, I’m over this.” I wandered into the hallway.

“Don’t worry about that, I can drive you.” He suggested.

I turned and looked at him, with an eyebrow raised. My eyes flicked down to his cup. 

“It’s just ice, I promise! Here, smell.” he stuck his cup in my face, and I laughed. It was just a cup of ice, just like mine, after all. 

“But, I don’t really know you, man. You could be crazy for all I know.” I said, pushing his cup down.

“My name’s Brian, my friends call me Quinn, ‘cause that’s my last name. So, uh, yeah. Brian Quinn. You?”

“Y/N.” I said, suppressing a giggle. He stuck his hand out and I shook it.

“So, do you still think I’m totally crazy?”

“I dunno, Brian Quinn could be an alias…” I teased. He laughed.

“What kind of lame-ass alias would that be? A better alias would be… I dunno, Jean Jacket, or Ben Dover.” I shook my head and laughed. Maybe he was okay.

“You do have a point there.” he gave me a crooked, almost charming smile. “Maybe, just maybe,  I could trust you just enough for a ride home.”


	2. Buying Time

He drove a small, white hatchback. It looked pretty nice from afar, but as I got closer, I noticed it was obviously spray-painted. I sniffed a little laugh, and got in.

“So where to?” he asked.

“Take Hylan, past Miller Field.” 

He turned the key, and the engine made a loud whirring noise, but no start. He looked over at me, and gave me a nervous laugh.

“Okay, now. Don’t do this to me…” he whispered to the car. Maybe he was a little crazy.

The car started at a second attempt. Crazy works, I guess.

The radio started blaring, I jumped, and Brian rushed to crank it down. 

“Sorry, I- uh, sorry.” he laughed, and I joined.

“It’s fine, really.” I began twisting my hands around the hem of my denim skirt. 

As we drove down Hylan, I glanced up in his direction. He looked kinda cute when he drove. Although I would probably never admit that out loud.

“Everything okay?” he asked. Shit, I was staring. 

“Yeah, just making sure you’re… you’re keeping an eye on the road.” I scrambled. Ugh, great. Now I sound like an asshole. But he laughed.

“Yes, ma’am.” he gave a small salute to me. God, why did I say that?

I gave him the way to go for the rest of the way. He parked, and I realized something that I had forgotten. The downstairs lights were still on, but it was 10:15, my parents should have been in bed by now.

“Shit!” I exclaimed, as we pulled up to my house.

“What?” Brian jumped, startled by my loud and sudden outburst.

“My sweater! Ugh, it’s in Lisa’s car!”

“Why does that matter?”

“My parent’s are still up, see the light? They’d kill me if they saw me in this!” I gestured to my low-cut blouse. 

There was a long pause as I thought of what to do.

“Well,” Brian began “I don’t have to be anywhere for awhile, maybe we could go grab a slice of pizza or something?”

“Oh.” I looked up at him. “Yeah, that sounds good.” I smiled.

He smiled back, and turned the car back on. 

“Have you ever been to Villa Monte?” he asked, getting back onto the road.

“No, I haven’t, is it any good?”

“It’s fucking amazing.” he laughed. “I’m about to change your life!”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” I laughed, rolling my eyes.

Villa Monte was a narrow little pizza store, stuck in between a church and a jewelry store. It was the picture of “moved to the United States from Italy and opened a pizza shop” place. It was perfect.

Brian went up to the front counter and ordered one regular cheese pie. I took my wallet out, and he looked down at me, with an eyebrow raised.

“Put that away.” he pushed against my wallet.

“No way, I’m no freeloader!” I said, pushing back against him.

The man at the cash register told us it would be $11.50, Brian whipped a couple bills from his wallet and held it up to him. Before the man could accept it, I ripped a ten and a five dollar bill from my wallet and snaked through Brian’s arm. The man looked at the both of us, laughed, and took Brian’s money.

“A gentleman always pays.” he smiled at us. I made a frown, and stuffed the money back into my wallet.

“Ha ha, yeah!” Brian said, as he hip checked me lightly. I laughed, and checked him back.

“Whatever…” I laughed. 

We sat down at one of their two-seater booths, waiting for the pizza. I hadn’t realized how hungry I got at the party, but I did now. 

“Okay, now this might sound crazy, but do you think there’s like… magic behind Italian places?” I said, stirring my coke with my straw.

“I’m not too sure I follow.” He said, furrowing his eyebrows and taking a sip of his coke.

“Hear me out.” I said, looking at him very seriously.

“You’ve got my full attention.” he leaned forward.

“Have you ever noticed how you never realize how hungry you are until you get into an Italian restaurant?” I said, in a hushed tone. He laughed.

“Oh yeah, like there’s the ghost of the Italian grandmother that haunts all pizza places.” he joined in on my conspiracy theory. I laughed.

“Yes, that’s exactly what’s going on here! We gotta phone up Spengler to see if he has anything for our situation.” after I said that, he looked at me for a second.

“You mean, Egon Spengler? Like from Ghostbusters?” he asked.

“Yeah, why?” 

“That’s my favorite movie!” he said, with a tone of excitement.

“I like that movie, but I don’t think it’s my favorite.”

“Oh, and what could top Ghostbusters?”

I stopped and thought for a moment, pursing my lips and looking at the ceiling.

“Probably The Shining. Or Pet Semetary. Or anything Stephen King does really.” 

“Oh man, I did  _ not _ think you’d be into Stephen King.” he said, sipping on his coke. I took a drink of mine.

“What, is that a bad thing?” I retorted.

“No, it’s actually kind of badass. I just didn’t think you’d be into it.” he smiled at me, and I rolled my eyes.

“Well, I’m full of surprises, then.”

The pizza then came, and I hate to admit it, but it did change my life.

 

He drove me back home, and when we pulled up, all the lights in the house were off. Perfect.

“Thanks for the pizza, again.” I said after he put the car in park.

“No worries, it was my pleasure.” He flashed me that half-smile again, and I felt my stomach flutter. 

“This was a lot of fun, actually. Way better than that party.” I stuttered.

“Oh yeah, definitely. Maybe we could do this again, you know. Sometime.” he said, maybe he was nervous, or maybe it was all in my head.

“Of course, I’d love that.” I said, pushing my hair back behind my ear. “Uh, you can call me.” I dug for a piece of paper and a pen in my purse. Luckily I found the pen no problem, but I didn’t have one shred of paper in my bag.

“Here.” he held his hand out. I looked up, met his eyes, and my stomach did that awful flutter again. I clicked the pen, and wrote my phone number as neatly as I could. Then for giggles, I put a smiley face by it. 

“Thanks, Y/N.” he said in a low voice.  _ Not again, stomach. _ I thought.

I opened the door and put one foot out. 

“Thanks for everything, I really appreciate it.” I smiled.

“No worries, any time.” he was keeping the hand I wrote on flat, not touching anything. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

“You too, Quinn.” I grinned, and walked towards my house, screaming a little on the inside.


	3. Corn Children

The next day, I tried to keep myself as busy as possible. I bounced from homework, to housework, to staring at the phone. The time rolled on however, and I wasn’t really getting anything done. My parents were visiting a friend in Manhattan for the day, and told me they probably weren’t going to be home till late.

I kept kicking myself for those awkward comments I made, replaying them in my mind and making me cringe. I kept trying to think of reasons why Brian hadn’t called. 

The reasons started off rational, and as the clock on my bedroom wall turned to 6 PM, they grew crazy. It went from “he just smudged the number and lost it” to “oh my god, what if he died”. 

8:00.

On the dot.

The phone rang.

I tore ass out of my bedroom and into the den. I held the phone in my hand for two full rings, then picked up.

“Hello?” I said, calmly.

“Hi, uh, can I speak to Y/N?” it was Brian.

“It’s me.” I grinned.

“Oh, cool. You don’t really sound like you on the phone.” he laughed.

“Well, I don’t know what kind of phone you’re using because you sound exactly like you.” I said, silently covering my face at the strange comment.

“Good, I’m so glad.” he said with a hint of sarcasm and a light chuckle. “What are you up to on this fine Saturday evening?”

Crap. Now I’ve got to think of something other than “Nothing much, staring at the phone all day. I also got up to pee at one point”.

“Not a whole lot, just homework. Yourself?”

“Well, I got home from work a little while ago. But nothing other than that.”

Now it was the bravery game. Was I going to pipe up and ask if he wanted to come over? Did I have the nerve?

“So if you want to do anything later, I’m down.” he said after my apparent long pause.

I am such a coward.

“Oh, yeah! That sounds fun, what did you have in mind?”

“We did pizza last night, so maybe not pizza.” he laughed, and I couldn’t help but grin.

“Maybe not.” I laughed, then swallowed all of my nerve for my next question. “If you want, you can come over, and we can order some chinese delivery, or something, I don’t know.” I was doing pretty well up until the end there.

“That sounds amazing.” he replied, as calm and cool as could be. I kind of hated him for that. “Actually, I picked up a movie while I was at work, do you want me to bring it?”

“Even better!” I smiled.

“Alright, I’ll be there in ten, okay?”

“See you then!”

As we hung up, I did a quick little dance when I realized. I’m in sweatpants. I have no makeup on. And I have ten minutes.

\---

It was a stretch but I did it. I threw on a pair of jeans and a sweater, and put on some mascara so I didn’t look like I was on meth. As I finished, the doorbell rang, and it was Brian.

“Hold on, are your parents not home?” he asked, as I picked up the phone to order our food. Shoot, I forgot.

“Oh. Yeah, sorry, I forgot.” I stammered, feeling my cheeks get red.

“No, don’t worry about it. I was just checking, because they might not approve of my choice.” He said holding up the VHS.

“What is it?” I squinted, then gasped. “Children of the Corn?”

“Yeah, have you seen it?” he asked, reading the back.

“No, have you?” I said, dialing the number of the Chinese place, and holding it up to my ear.

“No, but I remember you like Stephen King, so I thought I’d snag it for you.” My heart skipped a beat. Maybe even several.

I suddenly remembered I was on the phone with someone. 

“Hello?” she said from the other end of the line.

“Right! Sorry, uh, hang on.” I grabbed the notepad we constructed our order on earlier, and told her what we wanted. My heart was still fluttering from the simple comment Brian had made. I was probably beet red.

I hung up the phone, and walked back into the den.

“Alright, food’s on it’s way!” I said, flopping onto the couch next to him.

“Are ya ready for corn children?” he said, holding the cover up again.

“Not if you’re going to keep calling them corn children.” I laughed, and pushed his shoulder.

“Fine, whatever.” he shrugged. He handed me the tape, and I pushed it into the player.

“Now, this better be rewinded, Quinn.” I teased.

The screen went from blue to the classic FBI warning screen.

“You happy?” he joked as I sat back down beside him.

“You can keep your job. For now.” I teased back.

I’m not gonna lie, the movie was unnerving from the very beginning. The characters, Vicky and Burt were driving down what looked like an endless expanse of corn-edged roads, when out of nowhere, they hit a child.

I jumped nearly out of my skin, so did Brian. We looked at each other and chuckled.

“Didn’t expect that.” I tried to shake it off.

“Yeah, me neither.” he laughed.

As I settled back down into the couch, I leaned towards Brian slightly. 

The movie was getting creepier. The child was getting closer and closer to Vicky with a knife. I wanted to yell out “Turn around! Look at him!”, but that’d be crazy.

The music became more suspenseful, and then BAM!

I jumped back, basically pressing myself into Brian, and his arm came around to my shoulder.

It was revealed that it was not the child that scared Vicky, but only Burt. We both relaxed and looked at each other again. I realized, I was practically in his arms. He had his right arm wrapped around to my right shoulder, and his left hand was on my upper left arm.

He let out a sort of shaky chuckle, and moved to take his arm back to himself.

“No, wait.” I said before thinking. He stopped, his arm hovering just above my shoulder. “Just until they get out of the corn?” I explained, feeling the heat creep back into my cheeks.

He gave me that crooked half-smile of his, and set his arm back down. My heart was pounding so loud, I’m surprised we could hear the movie at all.

Yet another suspenseful moment came about. The music and the arm around me made my heart grow faster and faster. Vicky walked up the stairs, very slowly. 

Suddenly,  _ ding-dong _ .

In unison we half-jumped, then laughed.

“Hang on, that’s real life. Wanna stop the tape?” I laughed, getting up to answer the door.

“Yes, ma’am.” he chuckled.

\---

We ate without resuming the movie, because jumpscares, kung-pao chicken, and white couches don’t mix.

“How’s your food?” he asked, as I was chewing a mouthful of food. I let out a little sigh, and he laughed at me.

I held up a finger, swallowed, and said “Pretty good, you?”

“It’s great.” he replied. I noticed him watching me out of the corner of my eye.

“Do you like the movie so far?” he asked, right as I put a mouthful of noodles in my mouth. I almost laughed, but put a hand over my mouth while I chewed.

“I do, it’s got everything a good King movie needs. Creepy children.” I said after swallowing. I strategically left a small pause in my sentence. Brian lifted a fork of chicken into his mouth, when I blurted “What do you think?” 

He damn-near started choking. He and I both laugh, and he pushed my shoulder playfully. 

“You little shit!” he laughed, not quite finished with his mouthful.

“That’s what you get!” I said jabbing his shoulder.

We finished our food, then resumed the movie. We silently agreed that the movie was best viewed with his arm around my shoulder, and that’s how we stayed for the rest of it.

It was around 10 o’clock when we finished the movie. I knew my parents were going to be home soon, so I rewound it, and walked him to the front door.

“Thanks for the dinner, Y/N.” he said, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“Thanks for not fighting with me when I paid!” I said, lightly kicking his sneaker.

“Oh, yeah. Sure thing.” He winked. Again, my stomach did a somersault.

“And, thank you for the movie. I actually really liked it.”

“One of the perks of working at Blockbuster, so no worries. Any time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Alright, well, have a very good night, Y/N. I’ll talk to you soon.” He started out the door.

“You have a good night yourself, Brian. Drive safe.” I said, wiggling my fingers.

He started to walk away, then hesitated. He turned to look at me, with a strange look in his eyes. He walked back towards me with purpose. 

“What, you afraid that ‘He Who Walks Behind the Rows’ is gonna getcha?” I laughed.

He grabbed my waist.

He pulled me close.

He kissed my cheek.

I must have instantly blushed. I felt my cheeks start to burn for the hundredth time that night, but this time with more intensity.

He pulled away, looked at me with wide eyes, then walked away just as fast as he came. As he made his way toward the street, he turned back with that crooked half smile, winked, and got into his car.

I stood at the door, dumbfounded. As his car pulled away, I shut the door, and let out a small shriek.


End file.
